Life: Idiotropic

I thought I'd sit down for a few minutes and work on blogging my last wonderful week back "home" in Germany where everything felt natural and comfortable and ordered.  Where even the people at the airport were kind and efficient.

But I'm sitting here listening to the clink of the shovel hit the wheelbarrow as the gardener sprinkles rich black soil all over my lawn and wondering how I will keep my dog from tracking this delicious smelling stuff all over the house.  (Pray it doesn't rain.  Oh please, don't let it rain.)  Ugh.  I just looked again.  My lawn is completely black.   My flower beds have barely been touched.  They sprinked a little on top of the hardened ground at the base of the bushes, but more is on the lawn and my flower beds are green with weeds.  I don't understand this gardener.  I don't understand why my landlord insists on paying 150 Euros each month for 2-4 hours of work where my lawn turns black and my weeds thrive.

May be it's just the grog.  That mind aching sleepiness that you get the morning after a travel day when the fireworks in Valencia keep you up until 0130.  No, not complaining, they were beautiful and I could watch them from the warmth of my bed, but 0130?  I don't understand that either.  Partly my fault.  I was trying to sleep, then I'd hear a series of heart thumping booms, but though I knew it was just fireworks, I also knew that that many booms close together must mean something special and may be the end, so I'd sit up again and watch.  And lay down and try to sleep.  Then boombady boom boom and I'd be up again.  Down, then up.  Hey, may be these late night fireworks could be good for my abs?

Will post a photo of the black lawn soon.  I just don't get it.